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(IIWII) Trauma Dumping

No matter how much I Rage, and Hate, and Despise. No matter how much Anger I feel, it's all true. It's completely true. I have said it multiple times to multiple people, it is no longer the comical 'meta' perspective I once had. It was the truth from the start.

I seek attention.

I'm angry, I'm hurt, I'm upset and quite frankly, in despair. But not at them, at myself. At the psychological bullshittery that locks me to this illogical process of seeking sympathy and further damaging my own situation, whether by action or inaction.

Even as I type this, I want to make excuses. "But I'm anxious", "I've got no friends", I want to tell the world it's not my fault and I'm not just a puppet to an abnormal, unhealthy behaviour cycle of attention seeking.

But I can't.

I don't have a reason, why I sit here in my room, why I continue this 'self hatred', maybe just to bleed people dry of sympathy, and discard them aside when they can give no more, often aggressively. Then move on to the next. Never maintaining friendships, always making enemies, doing more damage to myself with every passing day.


I don't know. How do I draw the line between what is a genuine reason and what is a feeble excuse fabricated by my subconscious to try and justify my behaviour... or perhaps by existence. Take a look through my blog and you'll see the cycle. Back and forth, hatred and friendship, over and over again like a broken record. I thought it was some 'hidden emotional' issue, I even blamed it on mental health issues like Schizophrenia. But perhaps I was just craving attention and the pathways in my brain had fired in such ways to reinforce this behaviour. Because, after all, attention is attention.

I am lonely, but this is why I can't maintain friendships. Because I bleed my friends dry of sympathy for a situation I create. A lust for sympathy and pity that knowns no bounds. Perhaps it came about after social anxiety had crippled every last piece of confidence I had left in myself, to the point when I no longer care about maintaining friends. I just want the sweet nectar that is attention.

Or perhaps, that is, just another lie. Another excuse I am telling myself just to hide the root cause of the issue and that is that I am just an attention seeker. The more I think about it, the more it becomes clear. The more I feel such rage and anger at anyone who dares 'insult what I've been through', or cast doubt on how terrible my life is. When in reality, I put on the act simply for attention. For the nectar that I crave internally.

How can something so deep click into place so fast?

Because I already knew this. I just had to come to terms with it.

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